A week hasn’t passed since I arrived to Paris. A week ago I had just finished hiking on a glacier back home, Sólheimajökull, with Svavar. He’s my glacier expert and it was interesting (and fun) to see him in his element, explaining all things glacier to me.

The day before we went there, a huge block of ice had crumbled into the lagoon in front of the glacier (a lagoon that didn’t exist merely 5 years ago). Those nearby had to run for cover from the small tsunami that occurred due to the ice falling in. It was refreshing though, to be up there, drinking fresh, ice cold water straight from that magnificent blue ice - and to enjoy the view. Seeing the glaciers these days is a sombre proof of climate change in action and time doesn’t seem to be a friend to these ancient chunks of ice on our land. It’s running out.

What has that got to do with Paris? Not much really, I just wanted to use the chance to point it out to anyone reading this. But, time running quickly is something I got to know the last days in Iceland before my move. It seemed to be a race between me and the time, who’d be in Paris earlier. I would’ve needed a few extra hours to finish everything smoothly. So, I blame it on time that I arrived in Paris in the middle of winter with no toothbrush, no deodorant but two pairs of swimsuits.

But how is life in Paris anyway? I don’t really have an internet connection, which explains my silence on the interwebs lately. It’s kinda nice, reminds me of old days when not everyone knew exactly what I was doing. I can do other stuff, like draw and color and practice my Ukulele.

I take the metro to work, I have plenty of options to pick, I’m surrounded by metro stations, so it just depends on where I’m going, which station and line I take, to avoid making a lot of transfers on the way. This afternoon on the way home a young boy sat in the seat across from me. He had gestured to a women to give him his seat - which she did - and then he sat down and pointed at me, to his foot. I thought he wanted to rest his foot on my seat so I gave it up for him but it turned out he needed help tying his shoelaces. After helping him, he continued asking me ça va? how are you? the entire way to my metro station, with a smile on his face. When I prepared to leave at my station he put his hand out, wanting to shake mine to thank me for the assistance. So, we shook hands and smiled. Random Icelandic-Egyptian on a metro in Paris and a kid from Paris (or somewhere else, who knows).

I walked out the metro feeling weirdly happy. I guess the word is cheerful. Anyway, this encounter between strangers made me smile - surtout, specially since the metro is usually cramped with people that stare at their phones and avoid eye contact.

I think this is good for now. Art de Vivre is the name of the first bottle of wine I bought while here. It’s standing on my desk. It’s a merlot. I like it.

Until next time..

Merci.